Chapter 2
TWO
Another hour of sulking and overthinking makes my body itch to move, dragging me into wakefulness like an undertow I can’t fight.
I stare at the ceiling, tracing the intricate molding, the gold embellishments catching the early light. The bed beneath me is too soft, the silk sheets too smooth, like I’ve been swallowed whole by luxury.
But there is no comfort in it.
I throw the blankets off and rise, my bare feet meeting the cool marble floor.
The air is thick with a faint scent of burning wood and something floral, like roses wilting under the weight of time.
I pad toward the window and push aside the heavy velvet drapes, staring out into the morning haze.
The grounds stretch far beyond what my eyes can see, manicured and pristine, a stark contrast to the storm raging in my chest.
A stark contrast to my home with Sin.
His home.
His betrayal.
I don’t belong here, or there, or anywhere.
The thought is sharp, piercing through my ribs like a blade.
I need to move.
I wander the halls in a daze, my hands grazing along the polished wooden railings, the silk wallpaper, the cold marble statues that stand like silent sentinels watching my every step. The house is too quiet, too perfect, too lived-in for a girl who has never lived here.
The walls feel like a luxe prison, despite the wealth dripping from every corner.
The grandeur is suffocating, the intricate paintings of my supposed ancestors staring at me as if expecting me to accept this life, this name, this identity.
But all I can feel is the weight of expectation crushing me from all sides.
I should feel connected to this place deep in my core, to the family that surrounds me now. Instead, I feel like an imposter, a misplaced piece of a puzzle that will never quite fit.
My reflection catches in a gilded mirror, and I pause.
I look the same. Same wild waves of hair, same sharp blue eyes, same defiance set into my bones. But there is something new, something unfamiliar curling in my gaze.
I look like a girl who doesn’t know where she belongs.
“You’ll adjust, you know.”
The voice startles me.
I turn sharply, my pulse jumping. Cameron leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smirk playing at his lips. “I’m glad you finally decided to leave that dreadful room.”
For a moment, I say nothing, studying him.
He looks at me like he’s figuring me out, like he’s cataloging every reaction, every slip of emotion. It unnerves me… the way he watches, the way he calculates.
“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says casually, pushing off the frame. “You always this jumpy?”
“I’m in a house full of strangers.” I raise a brow. “What do you think?”
His smirk deepens, but there’s something softer behind it. Pity? Amusement? I can’t tell.
“You won’t feel that way forever.” He steps closer, his presence commanding, effortless. “Give it time.”
I fold my arms. “And what if I don’t?”
His jaw flexes, but he doesn’t break eye contact. “Then you’re stronger than I thought.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” he exhales, studying me, “that I know how suffocating this family can be. And I know what happens when someone resists too hard.”
Something tightens in my stomach.
Cameron steps closer, his presence a steady anchor in the storm of my emotions. He reaches out, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. "Magnolia, I know this is overwhelming," he says, his voice soft but firm. "But you don't have to go through this alone."
"I feel so lost, Cameron. I don't know who to trust or what to believe anymore." I have to confide in someone, this man who met me under false pretenses at my work. The man who is actually my brother.
He nods, his expression filled with understanding. "I get it. This family, this life... it's a lot to take in. But you have us now. You have me."
His words are a balm to my aching heart. I take a shaky breath, trying to steady myself. "I just want to feel like I belong somewhere. Like I have a family that cares about me."
Cameron's grip on my shoulder tightens slightly, a reassuring squeeze. "You do belong here, Magnolia. And we do care about you. More than you know."
I search his eyes, looking for any hint of deception, but all I see is sincerity. "Thank you," I whisper, my voice barely audible. The appreciation only coming from my lips because I can’t fathom thinking about this more.
If they cared so much, why wasn’t I raised here? Why throw me into an orphanage.
He pulls me into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around me protectively. "We'll get through this together," he murmurs. "I promise."
I recall the day Cameron first came into Alice in Brewland, selling his first editions to help his little sister. “You could have just told me, you know?”
“What?”
“When you came into the coffee shop.”
His eyes glance over me, empathetically. “Would you have believed me? Would you have ran to us or back to him? I couldn’t risk him finding out and hurting you.”
“So.” I look around us, “I was the little sister you needed to help.”
He nods, “I would sell every last one of my first editions for you, Magnolia. Here,” He hands me a box, a new phone tucked inside.
“We had to get rid of your old one.” Cameron walks past me, stopping just long enough to glance at my reflection in the mirror.
“You already look like one of us.” Then he’s gone, his footsteps fading into the endless hallways.
I release a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
I don’t know if his words were meant as reassurance or warning.
Maybe both.
The day drags, slow and dreamlike. Servants bustle in and out of rooms, the scent of freshly baked bread and herbs drifting through the halls, mingling with the ever-present aroma of old money.
I avoid everyone. I don’t know how to exist here yet.
But as the sun shimmers downward Cameron tells me to get ready.
We’re having a family dinner.
The soft murmur of the estate is distant, a quiet hum that wraps around me as I step into the bedroom. The late afternoon sun casts a golden glow through the windows, but the stillness in the air weighs heavy. The nerves creeping in.
I move toward the edge of the room, my fingers brushing the delicate lace curtains that hang from the windows, the fabric rustling slightly as a breeze enters.
The room feels like it’s not quite mine yet.
The floor beneath my feet is polished, the walls adorned with portraits of people I don’t know.
And then, as if by magic, my eyes are drawn to the bed.
A dress.
I blink, stepping closer to get a better look. It’s a soft emerald green, the color of a forest at dusk, with intricate lace details along the hem and neckline. The dress is laid out carefully, as if someone took the time to ensure it would be perfect for me.
I reach out with trembling fingers, lifting it gently off of the bed.
The silk fabric feels cool to the touch, and as I hold it up against my body, it seems to shimmer in the soft light, as if it were made just for me.
The neckline is modest but graceful, and the skirt flares out in a way that promises elegance without trying too hard.
My throat tightens as I trace the fabric between my fingers, wondering how many years it’s been since someone cared enough to do something so thoughtful for me. Then my thoughts trail to Bria.
I’ve tried not to think of her, the girl who has become my best friend. Was she involved? Did she know the whole time?
I doubt it. She despises the Rusco’s, she would have killed me if she knew then. I really was Sin’s dirty little secret.
I shake the thoughts away, noticing a small envelope tucked in between the sheets and comforter. I unfold it carefully, the handwriting inside as delicate as the dress itself.
Magnolia,
I chose this dress for you, to make sure you feel beautiful tonight. I know it’s been a long time since we’ve been together, there is so much I want, no… that I need to say to you.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t be there when you needed me most as you were growing up. But now that you’re finally home, I want to make it right.
Please forgive me for everything.
I swallow, blinking away the unexpected sting in my eyes.
Tonight, you’ll meet some of the family.
They’ve all been eager to see you. I know it must feel overwhelming, but I promise, everyone is so glad you’re here.
You’re part of something much bigger than yourself.
Part of our family. My hope is that tonight will be a first step towards rebuilding everything we lost.
The years may be gone but there is always a future to be had.
Wear this tonight, my darling. I picked out a dress that was as beautiful as you, but it still doesn’t hold a candle to you.
Love,
Maria Rusco
I hold the note against my chest for a moment, trying to steady the rush of emotions threatening to overtake me. The words are more than I expected. But there’s something about them, something about my mother’s voice, raw and vulnerable, that leaves me feeling both comforted and conflicted.
I’ve avoided her since I arrived, but maybe I should open up a little.
Taking a deep breath, I set the note aside and focus on the dress again.
Slowly, carefully, I slip it over my head, smoothing it over my body as the fabric flows effortlessly down.
It fits perfectly, hugging my waist and flaring out just enough to give the dress a graceful shape.
My fingers reach for the delicate buttons at the back, fastening them one by one, the slight pressure making me feel more grounded, more real in this space I still don’t fully understand.
I stand in front of the gold rimmed mirror and look at myself. The woman reflected back at me is unfamiliar. She’s someone stronger than the girl I was before, someone different from the orphan I used to be.
I pause, staring at myself as if seeing her for the first time.